


A Girl's Best Friend

by nostalgia



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Diamonds, F/M, Gen, Incompatible Moralities, Mild Twissy, Shippy Gen, Theft, Unresolved Sexual Tension, life of crime, sequins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 05:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13404321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgia/pseuds/nostalgia
Summary: Missy steals a priceless diamond, then has to enlist the Doctor to help her steal it again.





	A Girl's Best Friend

The Doctor was working on the temporal gyroscope when his phone rang. Surprised, he sat upright and banged his head on the edge of the console. Then, with rather more care, he stood up, rubbing his head and frowning at the offending communications device. He picked the receiver up, somewhat warily. “Hello?”

“It's me,” said a horribly familiar voice. “I need some help and you owe me for leaving me to die on Skaro.”

“I didn't leave you to die, Missy,” he said, patiently. “You're indestructible. If you'd actually let the Daleks kill you I'd have been extremely disappointed.”

“Well, you still owe me.”

“I'm busy,” he said, which wasn't exactly true but at least it sounded plausible.

“I don't care, I need to borrow you. I'm sending the coordinates to your TARDIS.” Something _pinged_ on the console. “I expect you here within ten minutes, and _don't_ go the long way round.” Missy hung up without waiting for a reply. 

The Doctor stared at the phone for a moment before replacing the receiver. He shook his head. He wasn't Missy's servant, she couldn't just order him about like that. Probably best to just ignore the call.

The console went _ping_ again and he turned the scanner screen to see a set of space-time coordinates and the words _THIS IS IMPORTANT_ in bright red flashing letters. With an irritated sigh he punched in the coordinates and pulled the dematerialisation lever. If this wasn't an actual emergency he was going to... well, sulk. A lot.

 

“Better late than never,” said Missy as he stepped out of the TARDIS. She was standing in a crowd of blue-faced aliens, handcuffed and with her hair slightly messier than normal. Her mascara looked suspiciously smudged. 

“What did you do this time?” he asked. “Are you expecting me to get you out of a situation you created yourself? I don't see why I have to tidy up after you, I'm not your mother.”

“I need a lift,” said Missy. “There's something I have to retrieve and these idiots,” she indicated the aliens around her, “don't trust me on my own. They have, however, heard all sorts of fairy-tales about _you_ and seem to think you'll make sure I do as I'm told. Don't worry,” she added, “I'm as insulted as you are.”

The Doctor sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Just tell me what you did.”

“I stole a diamond.”

“And?” the Doctor prompted.

“And apparently it's a relic of some god or other and it's vitally important in summoning the seasonal rains.” Missy shrugged. “I've told them how ridiculous that is, but they won't listen. Long story short, I have to get it back. So I need to borrow you and your TARDIS. It won't take long.”

“I'm not helping you get away from your mistakes,” he said. “What guarantee do I have that you won't just run off?”

Missy broke eye-contact and looked down. “I have to come back,” she said, more quietly. “They took something from me and I need it.” 

The Doctor looked at the assembled aliens and then back at Missy. “What did they take?” he asked.

“They took some memories.” She paused. “I can't remember my daughter.” She lifted her chin and met his gaze once more. “Will you help me?” she asked, as though it meant nothing to her either way.

Shocked, he stared at her for some time before he managed to nod. “Yes, of course.” 

Missy held up her wrists and one of her captors removed the handcuffs. Then, head held high, she pushed past the Doctor and marched into his TARDIS.

 

He watched her carefully as she worked at the controls. “Missy...” he began.

“I don't want to talk about it,” she said without looking at him. “We're going to the docks of Vega 9. I'll find the idiot I sold it to, get it back, and then I'll be out of your hair before you know it.”

“Fine, but -”

Missy kept her eyes on the console. “There's nothing to say. She was important and she mattered and they took her from me. I'm going to get her back and that's all there is to it.”

He stepped towards her and reached out a hand before thinking better of it and keeping his distance. “I'm surprised you didn't just start killing people,” he said, lightly. 

“I thought about it, but it wouldn't have done any good. These people are annoyingly good at keeping secrets. They don't even crack under torture.”

“Do I want to know how you know that?” he asked.

“Probably not,” said Missy. She finally glanced in his direction. “Vega 9 is a tough place, I don't want you showing me up. I have a reputation to think of.” She headed for the exterior doors as the time-rotor slowed to a stop. 

The Doctor stepped in front of her to stop her. “Wait,” he said, “if you want my help you have to follow some rules.”

Missy rolled her eyes. 

“Rule 1,” he said, ignoring her irritation, “is no killing. If you try to hurt anyone I'll stop you and then I'll leave you to sort this mess out on your own.”

“Fine,” she said, trying to push past him.

“And you're not allowed to -”

“Doctor, I don't care. I really don't. Now get out of my way before I introduce my knee to your testicles.”

With a long-suffering sigh he let her pass and followed her out of the TARDIS.

 

The space docks in orbit around Vega 9 had the look of having been cobbled together from scrap and optimism. Ships of various sizes and designs were connected to the main structure by thin corridors of metal. The TARDIS had arrived somewhere near the centre of the framework, in a street crowded with small shops and the carts of street vendors. 

Missy led the way, heading for a lopsided construction covered in flashing neon lights. “This place is worse than Glasgow on a Friday night,” she said as they entered, “try not to get stabbed.”

The Doctor followed her to a table at the back occupied by short round plantlike being with two sets of ears. 

“This is him,” she said. 

“Hey,” said the plant, trembling slightly, “I didn't do you wrong on that deal. I kept my side of the bargain.”

“I need the diamond back,” said Missy, getting straight to the point.

“You can't have it. I sold it on.”

“Who did you sell it to?” asked the Doctor. 

“That's confidential.” 

The Doctor caught Missy's wrist before she could strike the alien. She shook him off, annoyed, and then smiled. “My friend here doesn't want me to hurt you,” she said, leaning forwards. “But do you really think he could stop me if I set my mind to it?”

The plant-alien looked from one to the other. “It's with Azakabom & Smith, the auction house.”

“Where and when?” asked Missy.

He produced a pen and paper. “I'll write it down,” he said, “but if anyone asks I'll deny everything.”

“That'll do,” said Missy. When he had scribbled something on the paper she snatched it up and turned to leave. 

The Doctor followed her, rushing a bit to keep up. “You didn't have to threaten him,” he complained. “We could just have bribed him.”

“With what?” Missy stepped outside and started walking briskly back to the the TARDIS. 

“You must still have some of the money you made from selling the diamond in the first place.”

“I didn't trade it for _money_ ,” she said. “How dull do you think I am?”

“What, then?”

Missy stopped at the door of the TARDIS. “Don't ask if you don't want to know,” she said, and the Doctor decided to heed the warning. He followed her in and watched as she typed in the new coordinates. 

“How are you going to win the auction if you don't have any money?” he asked.

Missy looked at him over her shoulder. “We're going to steal it. And don't look at me like that, I don't think you've ever actually paid for anything in your life.”

“I'm not a thief,” he protested. 

“Really? Where did you get that shirt?”

He looked down at it and then up again, scowling. “That's different.”

Missy turned to face him. “Doctor, you can't stand here in a stolen TARDIS and take the moral high ground over me on this.”

She had a point, but he didn't want to admit that. “I borrowed her,” he insisted, as if by saying it convincingly enough it would become true.

Missy raised her eyebrows. “You're lucky she's not a library book, you'd owe the GDP of a medium-sized galaxy in late-return fees by now.” With that she moved towards the interior of the ship. 

“Where are you going?”

“To get changed,” she told him. “As should you. It's an exclusive event, we can't go as a pair of stage magicians.”

“I don't -”

She held up a hand to silence him. “You do. At least put a suit on. And don't wear trainers with it, either.”

The Doctor watched as she disappeared down the corridor. Then he sighed. He wanted to help her, but sometimes – in fact, usually – she was almost impossible to deal with.

 

He waited for her in the console-room, fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket. He felt overdressed and awkward. The suit had belonged to a previous regeneration, but the TARDIS had made the necessary alterations without him needing to ask. Still, it wasn't quite comfortable. 

“That's better, you look like a much higher class of magician now.”

He turned to see Missy coming down the stairs in a long black dress with a slit up one side. 

“You look... sparkly,” he said.

“Too many sequins?” she asked.

“No such thing.” He shifted from foot to foot, slightly embarrassed. She looked nice. Actually, she looked stunning, and he wasn't sure how to deal with that fact.

“We'll need the psychic paper,” she said, all business. “Do you have it?”

He patted his pocket. “Of course.”

“Good. You can be polite to people and in return I'll try not to kill anyone. Deal?”

He nodded. Missy stepped towards him and linked her arm with his. He frowned at the contact but she ignored him and led him out of the TARDIS.

 

“What do you think of the security?” asked Missy, casually as they mingled with the rich and presumably famous in the foyer outside the auction room.

“Quite good,” said the Doctor, looking around, “it probably isn't anything we can't handle, but I wouldn't take any risks.”

“What's the worst that could happen?” she asked, unconcerned. “We can always just regenerate if we have to.” She glanced down at herself. “I'd miss this body, though. I like it almost as much as you do.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” asked the Doctor.

“Whatever you want it to,” she said. She pointed at something behind him. “Get me a glass of champagne, would you? The pink stuff, if they have any.” 

“Get it yourself,” he snapped. She gave him a look and he found himself giving in. “Fine,” he said with a sigh, “but don't wander off.”

He went over to the buffet table, selected two glasses, and then – dodging people and trying not to spill anything – returned to where he had left Missy.

Perhaps inevitably, she was gone.

 

There were only so many places she could have vanished to, and after checking that she hadn't run off with his TARDIS he headed for the auction house's vault. Missy had always favoured the direct approach, after all. He arrived to find her standing by the heavy security door with a guard pointing a gun at her. The Doctor hurried towards them – someone was going to get hurt, and most likely it would be the guard.

“There you are, darling, I've been looking all over for you. Did you get lost?”

Missy and the guard turned to look at him. The guard looked confused and Missy smiled. “Yes,” she said. “Silly old me, eh? There are so many corridors here, and they all look the same.”

The Doctor walked over as casually as possible and offered her one of the glasses of pink champagne. He smiled at the guard. “She's got a terrible sense of direction. Thanks for looking after her for me.”

Missy stepped towards the Doctor and he put a hand on her back, managing not to pull his hand away when he felt bare skin under his fingers. He had forgotten that her dress was backless. Still, moving his hand _down_ was out of the question, so keeping it where it was seemed to be the best option.

She didn't seem to mind. She looked up at him. “We should be getting back, honey, I expect the auction will be starting soon. I wouldn't want to miss it.” She turned away from the guard and started back towards the foyer with the Doctor in tow.

“I told you not to take any risks,” he hissed when he judged that nobody would overhear. 

“Did you think I was listening to you? That's sweet, but very wrong.”

He moved his hand from her back. “Look, I said I'd help you, but only if you behave. I know how much you want your memories back, but I don't want anyone dying because of it.”

“At least I'm not a hypocrite,” said Missy. A thoughtful expression appeared on her face. “I wonder which of us has killed more people.”

“It's obviously you,” said the Doctor.

“Are you sure about that?”

He was _fairly_ sure, but he was saved from having to prove it in an argument. “It's starting,” he said, as the other guests started moving through the large double-doors on the other side of the room.

 

They tailed the winner of the auction back to his ship, a brightly-coloured and ostentatiously expensive-looking vessel parked in one of the most sought-after spots.

“I'll bluff my way on board,” said the Doctor, “and then I'll send you the coordinates.” He handed the psychic paper to Missy. “You bring the TARDIS, we grab the diamond, then we run. Easy.”

“They'll never let you onto that ship,” she said. 

“I'll just say I'm the janitor,” he said, quite secure in his own ability to lie.

“In that suit?” she asked. He had to admit that she had a point. “Let me try,” she said. “I have an idea.”

The Doctor watched as Missy approached the guards and spoke to them. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but to his surprise they waved her on-board without any obvious objections. He rushed back the to TARDIS and waited for her signal. As he waited he tried not to worry about what she might get up to while she was out of his sight. She wasn't nice, or good, or even semi-acceptable on any moral level, but somehow... 

The console chirped. The coordinates had arrived.

 

He stepped out into a corridor panelled with what looked like real gold. Missy nodded as he emerged, clearly impatient. 

“It's the Archduke of Spelit,” she said, “we'll have to be careful. He owns half a galaxy, he must be able to afford a decent alarm system.”

“How did you get onto the ship?” asked the Doctor, closing the door of the TARDIS behind him. 

“I said I had an appointment. I told them I was a prostitute.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows and she shrugged. “It worked, didn't it?”

“I've been meaning to visit Spelit for ages,” he said. “Do you know what they do to political prisoners there?”

Missy held up a hand. “We're here to steal a priceless jewel, not bring down a government.”

“Yes, but -”

“If you want to start a revolution you can do it on your own time.” She gestured towards a door halfway down the corridor. “I'm fairly certain it's in there.”

“No guards?” the Doctor asked, surprised.

“That's why I waited for you. A room that doesn't need guards is probably quite dangerous. I assume you have that stupid screwdriver with you?”

“It's sonic,” he said, defensively, pulling the device from his pocket. He walked up to the door and waved the screwdriver at it. Something clicked. “I didn't expect that to actually work,” he said, pushing the door open carefully.

He stepped into the room cautiously, Missy following a few steps behind. He looked around. “Don't touch anything,” he warned her.

She reached out a hand and grabbed the diamond. Alarms started blaring.

“Missy! I told you not to touch anything!”

“Why do you always just assume that I'm paying attention?” she yelled over the noise. “I see your mouth opening and closing but even Time Lords don't live long enough for me to care about whatever it is that you're actually saying.”

Part of the wall slid open and a heavily-armed robot moved towards them. “STAY WHERE YOU ARE,” it barked.

The Doctor grabbed Missy's hand and pulled her from the room, half-dragging her along the corridor and into the TARDIS. He slammed the doors shut just in time to avoid being incinerated by a laser blast from the robot.

Missy, who was somehow perfectly calm, handed him the diamond. “I'm going to get changed,” she said, “the sequins are itchy and don't think I haven't noticed how aroused you get when you look at me.”

“I'm not aroused,” he protested, tiredly. He held the diamond up to examine it. “Is this it? I thought it would be bigger.”

“As your wife said on your wedding-night,” said Missy without much malice.

He sighed. “Missy, I'm helping you out here, could you at least ease off a bit on the insults?”

“Don't pretend you don't enjoy it,” she said, heading off towards the wardrobe room.

 

On the planet where he had picked her up, the Doctor watched as the locals connected Missy to a machine that they said would give her back her memories. He stood nearby - anxious and not a little worried - as they worked. He didn't want to think about what Missy might do if this didn't go as planned. 

Finally they removed the head-piece and Missy opened her eyes and sat up. She blinked a few times and then she smiled. “I remember,” she said to the Doctor. “I can remember everything.”

He helped her stand and didn't protest when she embraced him. “She was so beautiful,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he agreed, rubbing her back, “she was.”

“And so clever. Almost as clever as I am.”

He couldn't resist smiling at that. “She didn't have to resit her temporal mechanics exam in third year.”

“I told you never to mention that,” said Missy, but she didn't sound upset. She pulled back from the embrace enough to look at him. “Thank you,” she said, and pressed her lips against his. It was chaste, and grateful, and he made no attempt to push her away. 

 

“You can drop me off somewhere I can get this vortex-manipulator fixed,” said Missy as they walked back to the TARDIS. 

The Doctor glanced at her. “I'm not sure if I should.”

“What's the alternative – keeping me in your TARDIS forever?” She shook her head. “That would never work out. One of us would be dead within a week, most likely you.”

“I don't want to be responsible for you causing problems for other people,” he said. “I should keep you where I can keep an eye on you.”

Missy laughed. “You're ridiculous, has anyone ever told you that?”

He nodded. “Yes, they have. Endlessly.” He stopped at the door of the TARDIS. “I'm serious,” he said. “We can travel together, I'll help you change.”

“I don't want to change,” said Missy. “I'm happy as I am.”

He searched his pockets for the key. “Well, the offer stands. In case you ever change your mind.”

“I won't.”

With a resigned shrug of his shoulders he unlocked the door and stepped aside to let her enter the ship. He paused in the doorway for a moment, watching her cross the room to the console. One of these days her actions would catch up with her, and then she'd _have_ to change. It might take years, or centuries, but it was bound to happen eventually. He made a silent promise to himself that he'd be there for her when that day came. And until then...

Well, he could wait.


End file.
